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All posts for the month August, 2012

Shakespeare was one pretty smart dude. “This above all: to thine own self be true.” Being authentic. Being real. Isn’t that what it is all really about? If all you have ever wanted all your life was for someone to love you, how are they ever going to do that if you don’t love you first? I’m not saying be conceited and think that you are the best thing since sliced bread. What I am saying is the first thing that we need to do is to figure out how to love ourselves.

I am on this journey of self discovery, trying to figure out the beautiful mess that I am. My conclusion is that we are all looking for a little validation. Okay, nothing earth shattering here, I am aware of that. However, if you have self-esteem issues it might be. I looked in the mirror today and said, “Not bad Biddle.” For me, that is big. When you have had a life time of thinking you weren’t worth it, it takes a long time to undo the damage you have done. So I start with what I have, awesome hair. Come on, admit it. I really do have awesome hair. I also have a beautiful smile, the ability to make you laugh until you cry, and empathy. I shouldn’t rely on someone else to provide my reassurance.

Next up, is tackling the demons. Come on, we all have them admit it. That is why we are having this conversation anyway. Sure, some of us may have more demons than the rest of us, but we are our own worst enemies. When we do something stupid, and kick ourselves over and over, and just can’t seem to let it go, who is it that does that? It’s us, right? I don’t need to point out my flaws to anyone. Why do I want to invite someone to make life more painful for me than it already is?

Today I stood in front of the mirror, and I lifted my shirt. Running down the center of my abdomen is a very long scar. I hate you gastric bypass scar. You are an ugly reminder of what I did to myself to try to be just like everyone else, to be “normal”. I hate you gastric bypass scar, because of you I have pernicious anemia. Sometimes, my iron and B-12 drop so low that I suffer confusion and memory loss, my hair falls out, and things in my life are fuzzy. I don’t have control then, and I don’t like it. That is why I write so much. I am constantly making so notes, so that when I forget things, I have somewhere to go back to try and jog my memory. Sometimes it works, and sometimes, not so much. I never wanted to be the poster child for gastric bypass, and I still don’t. I lied about having it done for a very long time, but I can’t really do that any more. One, I can’t remember the lies I told, so I probably would get caught. Two, the gastric bypass is part of why I am who I am today. Stupid scar, I love you because you probably saved my life, and because you are there, I am in the gym again. I will not fail myself this time.

Well Mr. Shakespeare, you are right. If I am not true to me, no one else is going to be.

Here is the thing ladies and gentlemen…once a fat girl, always a fat girl. Even when I was 125 pounds smaller, I still saw myself as a fat girl. Why? I guess because that is all I have ever known. I am taking the bathroom mirror pictures of myself on this weight loss journey of mine so that I can see where I have been. If I am honest with myself I can see some small differences, but that damn insecurity of mine just won’t let me celebrate. It isn’t something I want to be, fat or insecure that is, it just is.

Imagine your family buying you work out tapes and books. That’s right, Slimming Down and Growing Up and the Get in Shape Girl program, straight from those who are suppose to love you know matter who you are, what you look like, and what you do. Come on people! Do not buy a fat girl a gym membership or books on how to lose weight unless she herself asks you for them!!! Here is what will happen when you do; she will open her gift and thank you and tell you it is just what she wanted and needed and act as though it was the best gift on the planet, when in fact she is dying inside. Trust me on that, and all you want at that moment is to be invisible. We are programmed that we are supposed to be happy all the time. If you can’t be happy, well then you need to slap on a happy face, and fake it. Those are the rules. There is no place for a depressed fat chick in the room. She already has not been invited to the party, again. She has already been called a cow and a pig. People will love you when they get to know you, really? How about they never take the chance to get to know you, because they have already made up their mind on how they feel about you based upon how you look. Deny it all you want, but I do not lie about this stuff!

I continue to battle myself daily. Some days I win, and other days my personal demons do, and that is okay. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow I get the chance to try it again. Tomorrow I get the chance to get it right this time, and that is what I am going to continue to do with myself. I am going to continue to live my tomorrows until I run out of them, and maybe one day I will finally get my tomorrow right.

Most days I am asked how I manage to do all the things I do. Usually my answer is something along the lines of, “It is what it is.” You may quote me on that. Everything that I have in life is mine to deal with, and there is fat lot I can do about it. I can ignore it, but it isn’t going to go away. So how do I deal with life as I know it? One step at a time. One moment at a time. One breath at a time. Some days, I roll over and put one foot on the floor at a time, and the only thing I can find to be thankful for, is another day vertical. For me, that is enough. It is okay. I don’t want everyone to feel sorry for me. I can do this. I have been doing this for a long time now. I like to stay busy, over-thinkers need to stay busy. Otherwise, they end to find themselves thinking too much, which leads to trouble (not that I would know).

The truth is that I go and go until I hit the wall, and then I stop. Then I rest, but that is because I am forced to do so. Sometimes friends invite me out to have fun, and when they do, I go. I know it is good to have time away, so I do. That is why I have been exercising so much in the last three months; it serves as a good stress reliever. That, and I insist it is time to lose some weight for good (down 29 pounds).

Here is the thing. I can be angry about things and situations when I need to be, because I know that with everything that happens, God is in control. I can yell at God. God can take it; really big shoulders you know. When things don’t make sense, it is really okay. There isn’t anything I can do about it, except let it go. Let God make sense out of the nonsense, and when I hit the wall, stop, pick myself up, and go again until the next time, knowing that there will always be another wall around somewhere.

I got a phone call yesterday from Jacob’s neurologist. Seriously, another phone call! When I say it is the doctor calling, it is the doctor. Not her nurse, she herself. This time it was about Jacob’s labs that they had previously declared “normal.” Apparently, just kidding folks, not so much. What neurology sees as normal, the endo sees as “slightly abnormal” and worth investigation. Now we are off to yet another specialist next month to see if they feel his thyroid is malfunctioning enough due to the flat pituitary glad to treat him with medication. Did you follow that? Are you as exhausted by this whole thing, because I am. Quite honestly, I have not even told Jacob yet. He is 13, and going through that angry boy stage and I am just not going to go there right now. I would appreciate your continued prayer for my sanity. Again, I thank you who read my blog and love us. It means more to me than words could ever express!

Listen up!! This one is actually important. Please don’t let your daughters end up like me. I am serious about that. I am thirty-something and I still have self-esteem issues, and it sucks! I have two daughters, and I look at them, and I don’t want them to end up like me. I don’t want them to be unsure of themselves. I want them to be confident women. I don’t want them to look to other people for approval. I want them to be sure of the decisions they make in their lives. Sure, most people second guess themselves at some point in their lives, and that is fine, but don’t make every decision a difficult one. It really isn’t necessary, and quite frankly, it is exhausting.

If you grow up a fat girl, chances are you hear things like, “You have such a pretty face.” or “It’s what is on the inside that counts.” Well, let me just tell you this…A a person who was born fat, and has heard those statements more times than she ever cares to, if I ever hear you say those things to one of my children, I might punch you in the nose! Those are very unfair statements, not because of the words you say, but because of the words you don’t. You have such a pretty face…if you would lose some weight everyone would want you. You have such a pretty face…too bad you are so heavy that people can’t get to know the real you. You have such a pretty face…too bad it is missed because you are so fat. OR It’s what is on the inside that counts…but it what is on the outside that people notice. It’s what is on the inside that counts…some day someone will see the real you under there.

Now that you have read this far you are doing one of three things
a.) Tearing up because people said the same things to you
b.) Tearing up because you were one of those mean people who said such things to the fat kids
c.) Shaking you head because you don’t believe people actually said things like that (trust me, they did, they do, and family can be the worst ones, even if they think they mean well)

What do I want from you? Well that is the million dollar question, now isn’t it? Teach your children to respect others, but in order to do that, you are going to have to teach them how to respect themselves. Tell your daughters they are beautiful. Teach your sons how to treat a lady. Remember dads, your daughters are looking at YOU for direction. Are YOU acting like the kind of man you want your daughters to marry? If you aren’t then you need to make some changes, because chances are, she is going to marry someone just like you. Does that scare you? If it does, what do you need to change? Ladies, if you have issues with your self-esteem, then chances are your daughters are going to have issues too. Chin up ladies (and me). You are brave (yes, I am brave). You are strong (I am strong). Write them encouraging notes, I am writing myself encouraging notes lately. We are our own worst enemies, but we don’t have to stay that way!

The past several months have been rough, and it occurred to me that I never said thank you to the people who mean the most to me, my friends. In my life, my friends are my family. I will be the first to admit I have been on an emotional roller coaster and taken you all with me, and I appreciate your willingness to travel the distance. The truth is, we are our own worst enemy, and I am honestly my own. For those of you who got text messages from my kids or tagged in pictures, sorry about that. Mommy finally learned how to lock her phone! I will continue to apologize to those friends that I drove absolutely insane, who are no longer speaking to me. I miss you, and I ask you to consider forgiving me. Truth be told, I am a different me than I used to be, and I miss me too.

The diagnosis is a flat pituitary gland. That is not the cause of Jacob’s seizures. We don’t have a cause for the seizures, but he has been worked up to the full dose, and no seizures since July. Jacob has been through so much this summer, but has held up so well. He really has been a trooper. With the exception of his pituitary gland, as of right now the rest of his systems seem to be working. They seem to be compensating for his pituitary, at least at this point. So, for now we don’t do anything but watch.

I am so thankful for all you who prayed for us, sent texts, facebook messages, and called to check on us (and my level of sanity). I wish there was a way to explain the importance of having support when you have a child with special needs. If you know someone who does, call them, send them a card, a text message, an e-mail. You don’t have to offer or promise us anything. Often what we need more than anything is just that human connection. Being a parent is hard. Being a parent of a child with special needs is exhausting. I was in a meeting this weekend about special needs ministry, and to hear the words “80% of marriages fail when there is a child with special needs” and to find yourself shaking your head in agreement, well, I guess you are a different person than you once were.

Today I am stronger. Today I am brave. Today, despite everything, I know it is all going to be okay. I thank you all for your love, encouragement, and support!

Well, I did not see this one coming. Monday….sweat, bike, run, add squats (but after the third day in a row I will admit I like them a lot) and weigh in day. So for the record, I am at minus 27 pounds. I am not sure the weight (pardon the pun) of what I am doing to my body has quite sunk in yet. I realize I have been serious about this for the last three months, which is far longer than my usual attention span, and really I can’t explain what the motivation is, but I keep going.

Back to my story. I enter the ladies locker room, all sweaty and gross (code for, excellent work out grasshopper) and I hear, “How did you beat me here today?” I look to my right and there is a woman that I have seen at the gym many times before but other then just saying hello, we have never held a conversation. Today, she is Chatty Cathy. She apparently just needs to cleanse her soul and just pours out her entire life story upon me while I stand in the locker room, a bit dumbfounded. Let me just say, this is not the first time something like this has happened to me. It happens quite frequently actually. I don’t know if there is something about me that people just trust, or what, but people tend to spill their guts around me. I don’t mind, except when I am sweaty in the locker room. At least I think I don’t mind. Does that mean something is wrong with me that I don’t seem to mind that complete strangers confess intimate details about their life to me. (Megan-ism here folks, life of the over-thinker….just go with it. It’s fine.)

So locker room girl, goes on to tell me about her boyfriend that she lives with, but only because he helps her with her homework and apparently college is quite difficult. She isn’t going to marry him, but she is going to stay with him at least one more year, because she isn’t sure she will make it through microbiology without him. Am I married? Would I ever consider divorce? When do you stop loving your spouse? She used to be anorexic! Apparently, locker room girl is now in my life for a reason.